Saturday, July 28, 2018

this is the bunting

This is the bunting. No one cares, I know, but to me as it hangs on the partially freshly painted sheds it emits the white heat of hope.



With the arrival of the bunting, everything I had ordered has been delivered to me and I am gazing into that void of purposelessness one enters when nothing Has Been Dispatched and is On Its Way To You Right Now, Mise!




Once more, I suppose, unto the online shopping breach. Revs up Etsy, suspends critical faculties.

Blogger has such a cavernous calm nowadays. Just me and Mamie and Dwight (not your real names) kicking about amid the shards of the stained glass windows.  I could buy you a little something, perhaps bearing pictures of endangered animals. You have been so needlessly loyal, dear Mamie and Dwight.

9 comments:

  1. Love your bunting. I ordered mine from England and it makes me smile every time I look at it.

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    Replies
    1. You and me both, Donna. Remarkable that mere triangles of fabric should ward off the apocalypse but they do and there we are.

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  2. Replies
    1. And surely on the highest plinth.

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    2. I am still reading blogs, and admiring bunting, so do not feel despondent or bereft. It is good to see you about again.

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  3. Darling Mise,

    Joyful bunting......what else should we expect when popping in after such a long absence.

    So pleased to see all well at Mise mansions. We may return to Blogland ourselves. We miss our chums.

    Hope all well and buntingly delicious with you all.

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  4. Yesterday they sent me a mail, Mise, that something should be delivered - between nine am and one o'clock pm. THAT is for me a reason why I go more often into shops nowadays (ok - in Berlin no problem) - I do not want to wait for Amazon, Hermes etc for hours!
    The bunting is beautiful.

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  5. Hello Mise! Your newly acquired bunting is charming. Glad to see that you are still blogging a bit. Just recently I posted for the first time since Easter, so perhaps I am not even managing quarterly reports. There's a fair amount of stuff going on in my off-line life that seems to be stealing hours away from the laptop. Best wishes to you and yours. xo

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  6. You sound mournful. Are you mournful? One sincerely hopes that it is the poetically and perfectly acceptable mournfulness of autumn's approach, which 'twould appear now to be ibid of its exiting. I have no comment on Brexition. We in the Frozen North are too busy hanging our mournful heads in shame.

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You're looking particularly well.

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